In deep darkness
the country is gnawed
by a despot with his teeth
free people of the righteous,
the Moscow executioner transformed them.
Cossack’s land, steppes of descendants
burned the cannibal to the background,
and now in the homes of the Ukrainians
there is no light either.
I meet the autumn twilight at the threshold,
the wind is blowing, frost is near
who drew heads on blades of grass all around.
Oh, that there would be spring
so that there is light and warmth,
I think about it.
The eighth month of the eighth year
torments Cerberus the East
I have no peace
I wish victory for the state with all my heart,
Please, God fire cease!
To have a dream is to have an incentive,
cry and want with thirst meet Prometheus
to give divine fire
shine in people's homes and warm them.
My restless soul
the heart worries
make my dream come true God
she is already on her way to You, father!
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